


Miracle

by Aeshna_cyanea



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Doubt, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12769116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna_cyanea/pseuds/Aeshna_cyanea
Summary: Chloe thinks about the implications of being a miracle.





	Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this is very much a dark story.

Chloe Decker sat alone on the couch in her living room, a half-empty glass of scotch in her hand. It was getting dark, but she made no move to turn on the lights. Sitting there, staring unseeingly into the gathering gloom, she wondered not for the first time how it could have all gone so wrong. She gave a silent, mirthless laugh. She knew, of course. Just one word had been enough to bring her world tumbling down, slowly, imperceptibly at first, but then faster and faster, like a break in a dam.  
  
Miracle.  
  
Lucifer had told her, months ago when he revealed the truth about himself to her, that she was literally a miracle, that the only reason she existed was because his father - God - had sent his brother Amenadiel to bless her mother so she would be able to have a child. God had created her specifically, for Lucifer. That was the reason why his powers didn't work on her, why she made him literally vulnerable, able to bleed, to be hurt, to die.  
  
Chloe hadn't really understood the full implications of this fact at first. She still wasn't sure she understood them, even now. Both Lucifer and Amenadiel had answered all the questions she asked them, but neither had been able to tell her why God had created her. The only thing the brothers had agreed on was that she was part of his plan, whatever that may be. But what part? Was she a tool to manipulate Lucifer, as he believed? Or a gift, a reward for him, as Amenadiel seemed to think? Either possibility meant that she was nothing but a puppet, a pawn in the great divine game.  
  
Amenadiel had denied that, insisting that she still had free will. And Lucifer had been adamant, even desperate in his reassurances that he knew her feelings for him were real, that he didn't care about whatever purpose she had been created for, that he loved her, and he knew she loved him, and anything else didn't matter. And she had believed him at first. Had been eager to believe he was telling the truth, that everything was alright, that her miraculous origins didn't make any difference for the relationship they were building.  
  
But slowly, gradually, she had come to realize that it did matter. It did make a difference. Because now, every time she told him she loved him, every time she smiled lovingly at him, she could see the tiny grain of doubt in his eyes. And she knew it would always be there. No matter what Lucifer believed, what he made himself believe, he would never be completely certain that she truly loved him for himself, and not because his father had created her to love him. And how could he be certain, when she herself no longer was?  
  
Those tiny grains of doubt were weighing heavily on her. They had accumulated slowly, so slowly she hadn't even noticed at first. And by the time she became aware of them, they had become a mountain, an unstoppable landslide that was crushing and suffocating her. She could no longer ignore them, and now she was trapped, unable to escape their destructive weight.  
  
Another mirthless laugh escaped her. The truth was supposed to set you free. Well, that was certainly true. It had set her free. Free from any certainty, adrift in a sea of doubt with no anchor, no rudder, and no sail. No way to ground herself or return to the firm beliefs she had once held. Helplessly abandoned to the waves, until she finally sank and drowned.  
  
Her laughter turned into sobs, and she cursed Lucifer for ever telling her about her miraculous origins, cursed his father for doing this to them, and Amenadiel for being so completely certain it was a good thing. But most of all she cursed herself, and her insistence on knowing the whole truth. Ignorance really would have been bliss here. She wished with all her heart she could go back to that innocent time before she knew, could stop herself from asking, demanding, that Lucifer tell her everything.  
  
He had tried to warn her, telling her point blank that the full truth might hurt her, make her doubt herself and what they had. Maze had tried to warn her, too. The demon's words echoed through Chloe's mind. 'The truth can be a nasty, ugly bitch, Decker. If you ask Lucifer for the truth, he will give it to you. So you'd better be damned sure you can handle it before you ask him.'  
  
She had dismissed their warnings without giving them any thought, chalking them up to Maze being overprotective in her usual, caustic and aggressive way, and Lucifer being scared and searching for a way out. What an ignorant, arrogant fool she had been. They had known, had understood the awful, destructive power truth could have. She wanted to scream at them for not being more persistent, for not refusing her demands. For knowingly letting her run into disaster she was too blind to see, instead of protecting her and saving her from herself.  
  
But she couldn't do that. Because it would be unjust. In a bitter twist of irony, this was the one certainty that remained to her. She knew there was nothing her friends could have said or done to stop her. If Lucifer had refused to reveal the full truth to her, that would have destroyed their relationship just as surely as the truth itself had done. It would only have made her suspicious about what he was hiding, and that suspicion would never have gone away without him telling her the full truth.  
  
She was the architect of her misery. Her own absolute, uncompromising need to know had damned her. Like Lucifer had said about the souls caught in Hell: 'You humans, you do it to yourselves.' She had done this to herself. And there was nothing and no one who could have stopped her.  
  
Her phone buzzed with an incoming message, momentarily pulling her out of her dark thoughts. Chloe hesitated for a moment before picking it up. Five missed messages from Lucifer, three from Maze, and one from Linda. With an abrupt gesture, she deleted them all unread, and then switched off the phone. Nothing they could say would change anything. She had done the only thing she could do, and broken off her relationship with Lucifer. She couldn't go on living with the shadow of doubt hanging over her, pressing down on her more and more every day, until it suffocated her completely.  
  
Chloe drained her drink in one go and reached for the bottle to refill her glass. As she leaned back on the couch, her mind once again circled round to the one word at the heart of all her torment.  
  
Miracle.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should explain a few things here.
> 
> First of all, the doubt that Chloe sees in Lucifer's eyes. It may be there, or it may not. The important thing is that Chloe is convinced it is there. Her own doubts are preying on her, letting her see their reflection in her partner, whether that is objectively true or not.
> 
> I wanted to show that being a miracle from God, in this particular scenario with Lucifer, has some very problematic implications, which could easily spell the doom for any relationship between Chloe and Lucifer. 
> 
> I also wanted to show that the truth can be very much a two-edged sword - or a nasty, ugly bitch, as Maze put it - and that Chloe's absolute need for it could easily backfire on her, especially when it comes to Lucifer and the full truth about their circumstances.
> 
> Last, the parallels between the damned souls in Hell tormenting themselves with their guilt, and Chloe tormenting herself with her doubts, are very much intentional. Both guilt and doubt are emotions that are often irrational, or can reach irrational levels, and they are very hard to overcome.


End file.
